


Season's Eatings

by premature_assassination



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: F/M, Guzma's got a sweet tooth prove me wrong, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Stuffing, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-05 23:51:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14629632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/premature_assassination/pseuds/premature_assassination
Summary: The holiday season is a time of overindulgence for big bad Guzma.





	Season's Eatings

The white-haired boy pressed his gloved hands and cold-flushed face against the glass of the shop window. The pastries lining the display case varied in size, shape, color, and flavor, and each one looked more tempting than the last.  
Guzma licked his lips and followed Plumeria inside. They planned to bring some goodies back for the Grunts, so they picked out enough to fill two boxes and made their way back home.

They’d barely gotten far and Guzma was already reaching into one of the boxes to nab a malasada and sink his teeth into it. He gave a pleased little hum while he chewed, the sugary treat filling his mouth as he shoved the rest in.  
“Hey, those are for /everyone/, remember?” Plumeria reminded him.  
“Mm-hm,” he nodded, grabbing a second pastry, “I only want a couple.”  
Plumeria smirked knowingly. Sure enough, by the time they got back, his box was half empty.  
And she knew this was only the beginning.

The Christmas season was a time when Guzma really let his sweettooth reign. He made more decisions with his stomach than his head. She’d catch him snacking on chocolates or candy canes; if a batch of cookies or a pie was left unattended for too long, he’d devour it; on days when the snow would not stop falling and he deemed it too cold to do anything, she’d find him snuggled under a pile of blankets, filling his belly with hot cocoa or warm apple cider.

They’d join friends for holiday dinners at times, and Guzma definitely didn’t waste these opportunities. He’d scarf down huge helpings of delicious homecooked dishes until his stomach was swollen and groaning.  
He’d slump onto the couch afterward, giving small hiccups or burps periodically as he digested the massive meal.  
“Ugh, damn,” he mumbled, eyes closed and legs spread to accommodate his overfed tummy. “-hic- Think I ate too much…”  
He’d beg her to rub his belly for him - “Pleeease, Plums..?” - and she always caved, massaging his gut while it grumbled and he began to doze off. Even though he claimed he was too full to even move, when dessert was offered ten minutes later he never refused.

This period of gluttony always inevitably began to show.  
A few weeks into winter, Plumeria could come up behind her boy, wrap her arms around his middle and feel a soft layer of fat forming.  
“Startin’ to get a little pudgy, huh, G?” she said in his ear, squeezing the bit of belly that hung over his waistband.

“Wha- I’m not- I, uh…” he stammered, squirming his way out of her grip and looking down at his tummy. He frowned at the extra chub like he hadn’t noticed it until now, a soft blush creeping onto his cheeks when he said, “I mean… maybe I put on a couple pounds…”  
Plumeria snickered. “Uh-huh,” she said smugly. He was cute when he was embarrassed. So she’d continue to tease him - poking his gut, calling him tubby - but it never seemed to deter him.

The longer the season went on, the more pastries and candies and large meals the team leader ate. And the more he began to plump up.  
Soon his shirt hugged his belly tightly, and Plumeria could see a sliver of chubby flesh whenever he stretched and the fabric rose up. As he packed on pounds, his clothes covered less and less of his gut.  
Eventually he couldn’t even zip his jacket anymore - his tummy was too round and firm. His typical slouched posture only made the fat around his middle more noticeable.  
And at night, when they were both in bed, she’d snuggle up close to him and hug his doughy frame. While he slept, she’d grip his lovehandles or squish his flabby stomach, using his soft abdomen as a pillow. He seemed to purr with satisfaction, and both slept warm and content.

One night, as he lay sprawled in bed and polished off an entire cherry pie and about half a gallon of warm milk, Guzma smirked and asked her, “Hey, -urp- you still think I’m gettin’ pudgy?”  
“No,” she told him, “I think you’re gettin’ fat.”  
“Ah, Plums…” he whined.  
“Don’t pout,” she commanded, kissing him. As she pulled away, she patted his full tum, causing the blubbery orb to jiggle. “I think it looks good on you.”  
His face turned red but he quickly melted when she began to rub his stomach, gently kneading the skin, pressing her fingers into his sides and his tender underbelly.

Guzma moaned, the sound interrupted by a hiccup. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillows (now just as plush as him).  
Plumeria chuckled and planted several loving kisses on his bare belly.   
“That’s my boy,” she said proudly.


End file.
